it's been a while! I've been working on a few things, but couldn't pass up today's @drarrymicrofic prompt, starfish. (T, 250 words)
On the nights that Harry was away, Draco had the option of sleeping in the middle of their king-sized bed, limbs akimbo, taking up as much space as possible. He could pile pillows on either side of him, so he wouldn’t have to drag one set with him when he inevitably tossed and turned midway through the night. The sheets were cool against his skin, the bed an absolutely perfect temperature for sleep without the furnace of Harry’s body occupying it.
It was something he talked about with friends, Hermione particularly understanding the joy of starfishing in a giant empty bed.
But secretly, Draco hated it. The bed was too cold without Harry, too lonely without Harry.
He much preferred to be crowded to the edge, grumbling, with one careless, heavy limb thrown over his chest, body half-in and half-out of the sheets even on winter nights to try and regulate his body temperature. He much preferred the security of having his husband between him and the door, keeping away mythical intruders. He much preferred waking up to Harry’s morning breath and soft, sticky kisses before either of them brushed their teeth, reminders of love and belonging his favourite way to begin any day.
So on those starfish nights, Draco stayed on his side, arguably a third of the bed instead of half. He piled pillows at his back, a rough semblance of Harry’s presence. He cast unnecessary warming charms.
And he waited for Harry to come home to him.
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